Embarrassment is one of the markers of middle-class. Always wary of what anyone else may think, we shuffle demurely through life behind our paper-thin facades, hoping that no-one ever will peek behind. One step out of line, and we cringe with shame, hoping that nobody will see us through.
My family may have been more middle-class than most. Catapulted into the local spotlight by my father’s work as a country dean, everything we did was discussed throughout the parish. So we did as little as possible. We never had arguments, never had conflicting meanings. A kind of very, very late-Victorian bubble in the Norwegian countryside; discretion, politeness and good old Christian family values was the rule for everything we did, said and thought.
And of course: none of us had bodies. At least not to speak about. Sexuality was very vulgar, and not something that happened in our elevated circles. As for homosexuality, it simply did not exist. Of course.
When I was 12 I discovered that I fell in love with boys instead of girls. Not knowing that such strange love existed, it took me the whole of two weeks to find out that this actually was the worst of taboos. Too ashamed to see that I was ashamed, too scared to try to discover where this shame actually came from, I stuffed it all away behind a friendly and correct virginal mask. Perhaps it would go away? Perhaps I should try a bit harder to fall in love with girls? Some of them were rather pretty after all. And so the years passed. Slowly.
Being kind, polite and humble is all very well, and it has its rewards. But it is very lonely work, and tiring for the soul. I still fell in love with other men of course, but equally of course never told them. I am a patient man, but after too many years of this I saw that this couldn’t go on. It was too depressing in the long run, my whole life trickling silently away in hiding.
“Sexuality was very vulgar, and not something that happened in our elevated circles. As for homosexuality, it simply did not exist.”
So, I decided to change. I quit my job, moved to our capital city, Oslo, attended an art school, and was very curious to see what more would change. I stopped hiding, got friends, and finally came out of the closet. Now at long last I discovered the shame that had held me hidden safely in there. And better still, I saw where it came from.
We are all conditioned by the society we grow up in, inheriting a host of unwritten rules about how to behave, what is of value, and what is less so. Like a subconscious book of values, we form our behaviour and meanings after these invisible rules every day. Sadly, this book of values also includes the prejudices of society. And so, if you’re part of a group that society looks down upon, you may end up with this most absurd thing: deep, subconsious prejudices against yourself. This can result in the worst of shames: the shame of being yourself.
I believe that many feel such shame. Whether you are old, disabled, have mental health issues, are poor, unemployed, an immigrant – the list goes on and on – you risk ending up with this deep certainty: I am unacceptable.
Around the world a very large group has suffered from this: women.
Women have been actively fighting to get their place in the world for over a hundred years. They have achieved a lot, but there’s still much left to do, and they have to keep on working. We gays have been fighting for just a few decades, so of course we’re not out of the shame yet. The prejudices are still there, in society and in our heads.
All the cattiness and meanness between us LGBTs is just self-loathing turned outwards. Wouldn’t it be good if we could get over our shame, and let go of all this? That pride and love really could be our true hallmarks?
For me, life at least has become a lot better. Having discovered where the shame came from made me free of it. Just the fact of discovering that the shame I felt was simply me being loyal to some totally unfounded prejudices that I had inherited, made me free to disregard these rules. After all, they are rather nonsensical really.
• Read more about Skogrand’s upcoming exhibition, and see some of the artworks at the gallery’s website:
www.vaslisouza.com/theatreofshame and www.trygveskogrand.com
